So on Sunday, when I may or may not have been very hung over (the jury’s still out on that), I met Barton and Rachel at Centennial Park. They brought Rachel’s dog, a GeneriDog puppy named Emmet, and I brought my dog, a furry cocktail weiny named Chloe. That’s her on the right, on one of her good days.

I was kind of concerned about this, since Chloe doesn’t usually make friends with other dogs. When she first traipsed into my family’s life, I brought her over to The Across the Street Starbucks. At this time, there was an older guy who was a regular there, and he had a big, friendly, white dog that looked kind of like a husky. He brought his dog over, the two dogs sniffed, and Chloe morphed from a happy, Dug sort of behavior to a snarling I-Will-Shank-You convict. Her face contorted into a demon’s, and the growl was terrifying.

The man and his dog retreated, I apologized, and Chloe calmed down and reverted to her attention-seeking normal self. Since then, I’ve figured out that she only likes dogs she can dominate. To wit, her “friends” are a miniature dachshund, a Jack Russel Terrier slightly smaller than herself, and a… dog named Hot Dog that seems to be oblivious to most things around it.

So I got the call Sunday afternoon when I was sitting around watching a discussion about U.S. – China relations (because I am a nerd of gargantuan proportions), and was a bit weary. But, I figured, I needed to get out of the house, and this was a good excuse to do so.

So Chloe and I left, went to the park, and met up with the three of them. Emmet, the GeneriDog, immediately submitted to the terror of Chloe–a dog who, if you don’t remember, looks like this:

Ten minutes later, Chloe was ignoring Emmet, and the latter was walking around chewing sticks and plastic bottle caps.

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